


Forgetting Him Was Knowing Somebody You've Never Met

by Superhusbandsfamily



Series: Flashbacks And Echoes [2]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Gen, M/M, Stony - Freeform, Superfamily, Superhusbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:44:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superhusbandsfamily/pseuds/Superhusbandsfamily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Companion to Variant 1 - Loving Him Was Red<br/>Steve's flashbacks/echoes/memories in order<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgetting Him Was Knowing Somebody You've Never Met

       “Oh, dear God,” he blurted when Tony’s computer spoke all of a sudden. He was sitting at his easel in Tony’s basement laboratory, trying to figure out which colours to mix next, when Tony asked him a question, at least he had thought it  was directed towards him seeing as no one else was in the room, but then, Tony’s...AI started answering. That actually made more sense since he didn’t get a single word Tony was referring to.

       “Did the Captain just swear?” Tony asked, highly amused. “He did, didn’t he? You caught that on tape, JARVIS? It’s a once in a lifetime!”

       “Cut it out, Tony. It’s no big deal. I just haven’t gotten used to...umm...JARVIS yet,” he said, embarrassed and ashamed. He never swore, especially not blasphemy. He flinched every time someone did so, openly in the streets. He really wondered how he was ever going to get used to the changes of the modern age. He looked up from his painting and could feel a flush spread across his face when Tony’s eyes fixated on his from the other end of the lab, and he received a welcoming smile.

       He was still caught off guard by the way Tony made him feel. When he was around him, he felt like he was still that scrawny kid in the back-alleys of Brooklyn; too afraid to ask the ladies to dance. Being with him, he wasn’t Captain America. He didn’t have to put on a mask. He could be who he really was, but at times like these, he wished he had some a pinch of that superhero confidence. He had never been in love, but he was pretty sure that this was what it felt like.

       “Woah, enough with the staring competition, Steve. You win! I’ll delete the recording, alright?” Tony exclaimed, holding his hands up in defeat, before pushing one of the million buttons on his screens, which was Steve’s reality slap. “Now, back to...whatever it was you were doing.”

       He sighed, picking up his fine brush, and went with plain green. Courage, Steve, you’ve definitely lost it.

       “Hey, since you won’t even let me near the cars, can I have the Bridgestone?” he asked wearily as he stepped into the workshop.

       “What? My 1967 Bridgestone? My baby?” Tony questioned from under the Volvo, stunned, huffing a laugh. “The one I keep in the special case at the back? The one that I modified to be _the bike_?” he continued when Steve showed no signs of getting in on his joke.

       “Umm...yeah?”

       He rolled out on his creeper and stood up in an instant, mouth trying to form the right words and not just scream in horror. “Now why would I do that, Cap?”

       “Because I...I’d need a ride,” he said as he looked down, watching his foot create senseless patterns with the grease on the floor.

       “If you need to get anywhere, you know you can take Happy anytime, right? He’d be more than, well, happy to give you a lift.”

       “Heh...no...not this time...” He could feel the corners of his mouth quirking up momentarily before fading in an instant when he met Tony’s intense sepias.

       “Spit it out, Cap, not everyone has the privilege of spending sixty years in ice,” Tony smiled as he wiped the grease off his hands and turned to face him, curious.

       “I’m saying yes, so I need a ride if...if we’re doing this,” he blurted, looking down again, suddenly finding his shoes the most interesting thing in the world.

       “Yes? Yes to..?” Tony asked, confused, trying to read the withdrawn man in front of him that was supposed to have nerves of steel; then it hit him and his eyes were flushed with recollection. “Oh...oh, okay. Yea sure, she’s all yours.” Tony beamed brightly and watched as he blushed. “I guess I’ll see you at seven?”

       He nodded and rushed up the stairs, hiding his stupidly big grin.

       “H...hey! Tony! What in the world are you..?” he asked, dumbfounded, when Tony suddenly dashed behind him and scooped him up. Tony was in his full Iron Man suit, only missing his helmet; not allowing Tony to hide the cheeky grin plastered on his visage. Before he knew it, he was had his arms wrapped around Tony’s neck and was holding on for dear life as they rose high into the firmament. He never minded flying but was sure he didn’t like soaring through the skies feeling exposed and unprotected. He had agreed to a date and this was certainly not what he had expected!

       “Cap, open your eyes. Its fine, I’ve got you,” Tony said calmly albeit he sensed a hit of amusement in his voice. He didn’t even realise he had his eyes shut; he took a deep breath and forced them open. He wouldn’t, under any circumstances, regret doing so; he saw a whole new side to the city he has been living in all his life. It was lit up marvellously in the night and he found himself basking in its magnificence. “I thought you’d like it,” Tony whispered in his ear; he had almost forgotten he was floating dangerously far above the ground and reminded himself not to glance downwards, finding himself looking intently at Tony instead.

       “I love it. It’s beautiful, Tony I...thank you,” he said, eyes wondering leisurely across the phizog of the man he was clinging on to, and eventually landing a tad too low to be comfortable with. He wanted to turn away but Tony’s luscious lips were inviting, calling out to him like a drug. He felt a wave of heat rush to his face and knew that he absolutely needed to look away but Tony smirked and caught up, snagging Steve’s lips in his.

       He had never been kissed like this before; it was passionate and the way their mouths just fitted together like puzzle pieces, it was easy, and so much better than he had imagined. All the doubts and fears he had earlier, seemed to have been erased completely, and it was then that he realised, this was the beginning to something incredible.

       He never knew that being with Tony Stark had meant lots of fancy parties with expensive food and rich company. He definitely had not known that the wealthy could be so dull and terrible conversationalists.

       He had gotten used to the flashy limos they rode in to get to galas and fundraisers; although, Tony preferred to drive unless he lost a row with either Pepper or Happy, leaving him with an hour’s drive to their destination having to hear Tony’s side of the argument as to why testing out his ‘babies’ on the road was so important. He had also learned to appreciate being dressed by either Tony or one of his many tailors. It saved him a lot of time figuring out what to wear to these things and he agreed that he looked a lot better with whatever they chose for him then what he would have picked out himself anyway.

       The one thing he despised most, when at large gatherings, was watching Tony move through the multitude of people. He blended in nicely but he knew Tony wasn’t being himself. The way he so easily lied his way in and out of something, or when he laughed, Steve knew it wasn’t real. He knew Tony better than anyone even before they became romantically involved and he hated seeing Tony that way. It was the Tony that the world knew; that the media loved writing about. It was the Tony that made weapons for a living, drank the bars dry, and brought home a different woman every night; a Tony that was lost and miserable, and didn’t know why or how to stop feeling that way. It pained him even more knowing that Tony himself loathed that person, but he still had a role to play and unfortunately, that was it.

       Sometimes he feared that he might lose Tony to his past where Steve clearly didn’t belong; but when Tony glanced back and scanned through the crowd to meet his gaze, and Steve would watch the corners of his mouth twitch before disappearing through the masses again, he knew that everything would be alright.

       In the wake of a tragedy at Stamford, the United States Government proposed a Superhuman Registration Act, intending to register all super-powered beings as living weapons of mass destruction and requiring all costumed heroes to unmask and subject themselves to federally mandated standards.

       The prospect of registration divided the superhuman community down the middle, the pro-registration and anti-registration groups. Tony Stark aka Iron Man, who had previously tried to halt the act, became the pro-registration figurehead, while he, Steve Rogers aka Captain America, led the other. He rebelled, believing his actions could be justified.

       This was the dawn of a Civil War; a mighty battle between superheroes the people had once looked up to, where the citizens knew what was imminent when they themselves didn’t. It was a war that would lead to nothing more than death, chaos and destruction. They were right, and he was the cause of it.

       When it was over, there were novel beginnings, yet it was too late for things to return to the way it once was.

       The picnic they had was simple yet delicious. The trees around them were getting colourful, showing signs of autumn. The weather was great; sunny but cloudy and they watched the white masses in the sky pass by, trying to figure out the shapes they formed. Out of all the names they came up with, most of them were the monsters and aliens they had fought in the past, although Tony had started coming up with things he would be too embarrassed to repeat.

       They came here often. It was their place. He loved it here, just lying on the grass, relaxing under the huge, and possibly centuries’ old oak tree, listening to Tony blabber away about some new experiment, or when they would be silent and stare into each others’ eyes, letting time go by. 

       He was finishing up the last bit of champagne in his glass and flicking off the crumbs from his fingers when Tony suddenly whipped out a pocket knife and pointed it at him. He dropped the glass and held up his hands in surrender. He was bewildered as he asked, “Woah...Tony! What’re you doing?”

       Tony chuckled and Steve believed he was going mad until Tony placed the knife on the chequered blanket, took his hands in his own, and brought them down to an acceptable level. Tony just held him and looked right at him, giving him one of the biggest smiles he had ever seen. “Chill Steve, it’s alright,” Tony said, laughing now at Steve’s confounded expression. “Why would I hurt you?”

       Steve thought that given their history, it was best not answer that; it was probably rhetorical anyway. “Why do you even have that?” he asked instead.

       Tony picked up the red Swiss Army knife and began fiddling with it before holding it up to him. “What this?” questioned Tony. “Just a little something I started carrying with me after I got captured by Obie’s men, no big deal,” he explained. “You never know, it might come in handy one day; can’t always count on the suit.” Tony stopped staring at it and turned to look at him again with a quick twitch from the corners of his mouth.

       He understood how that experience had affected Tony and also knew that he was still haunted by memories of it; he realised awhile ago that Tony was still afraid that it could happen again. He changed the subject by asking, “Umm...so why exactly are you waving it at me?”

       “‘Cause a weapon can’t be all bad,” Tony replied, standing up and brushing his hand over the bark of the tree. “Here, perfect spot,” he said, gesturing for Steve to get to his feet too and he did. Tony began carving deep into the wood which made him worry till Tony started putting his thoughts into words again. “We’re good, you and I? We have fun, we laugh, and...you know me. We didn’t always get along, that I know, and now I can’t see why. This has been the best year I’ve ever had. Honestly, I’ve never been happier, Steve. My life sucked and basically had no meaning before you came along. You’re my partner and my best friend. I wouldn’t know what to do if I lost you,” Tony confessed before blowing sawdust out off the way and burrowing the tip of the knife deep into the bark once more.

       “I don’t usually do this, just in case you were wondering. Hell...I feel kinda stupid now and that never happens, and I owe it all to you. You changed me, Cap, and I like the new me. I’m starting to sound like a cheesy line out of a rom-com, aren’t I?” continued Tony, huffing a laugh and Steve could have avowed he saw him blush. “I don’t think I can ever imagine life without you anymore. You are the only person that could make me believe in myself and stop me from drinking, which is a big deal in my book. I found a reason for me to change who I used to be. I know now what the phrase ‘money can’t buy happiness’ means and that’s merely because you showed me. You never cared that I was a broken man, you were always there. You’re basically my other half I never knew I was missing.”

       Tony was finished with his project, placing the knife safely away, and he moved aside for Steve to gawk at, because that was exactly what he did. Tony searched him for signs of disapproval and was exceptionally pleased with what he discovered instead. “I love you, Steve. I don’t say it much, but I hope you know I really do. I don’t need or want anything else, only you. I’m not perfect, and the universe knows you could be with someone better; someone who deserves you, but if you let me, I promise to do whatever it takes to be that person. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel the same way you make me. So, Steven Rogers,” Tony began, getting down on one knee, “will you, officially, make me the happiest and luckiest man alive, by doing me the honour of being my husband?” Tony pulled out a velvet box from his jacket and bared its content.

       Naturally he wasn’t expecting a solitaire, and frankly, he wasn’t expecting anything, especially not this, but in that instant, he couldn’t do anything except wonder how the unpretentious silver band was the most breathtakingly beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes on. “Marry me?”

       He gawped at Tony, then at the ring and eventually back to the man kneeling before him. There were definitely no words to describe what he was feeling. If he really had to, he would have to say a touch of tremendous elation, extreme shock and overwhelming happiness. He certainly didn’t believe it could be possible. He pulled Tony to his feet and kissed him tenderly, long and hard. He never wanted to ever release those warm, soft lips from his. He had only heard stories about moments like these and living it was undeniably something else. When he finally pried them apart, beaming at the man that was going to be part of his life forever, resting his forehead against Tony’s and staring profoundly into his brown eyes, he said the effortless yet most important word their entire existence.

       “What is it, Tony?  Come on, this is getting ridiculous. We can barely walk!” he said as Tony led him somewhere, covering his eyes. He could see various figures and make out certain shapes through the gaps in Tony’s fingers but didn’t seem to recognise the place. They were having a tough time navigating through the streets since Tony had insisted that he kept his eyes closed, and had wanted to do it himself because he didn’t trust that Steve would. Being a fair amount shorter than he was, Tony had to tip-toe while directing him a block or so to what exactly it was Tony had wanted to surprise him with. What would have usually taken them a couple of minutes, stretched on for what felt like hours or possibly days.

       “Patience is virtue, Steve. Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?” Tony was laughing now and he could tell that he was very excited. “Anyway, no need for anymore of your complaining ‘cause...ta daa!” Tony finally removed his hands from Steve’s face and he was presented with a stunning, pristine mansion with a red front door. The only thing missing from the American dream home would have been the white picket fence. It was probably built in the 50s, but there were modern touches to it; he was guessing from courtesy of Tony’s handiwork. “What do you think?” Tony asked when he remained silent in awe.

       “It’s magnificent; really something else. I haven’t seen a house like this one in years. Well, since I woke up at least,” he said, finding himself heading towards the porch, eyes glancing over every inch of the place, as the large iron front gates were left wide open. “New project of yours?”

       “Something like that,” Tony said as he walked up to the front door and produced an old brass key from his pocket. “I haven’t wired up JARVIS to the mainframe yet so this would have to do.” He waved the key at him before inserting it into the lock and opening the door. He followed Tony in and just as he thought it couldn’t get any better; it was even more beautiful on the inside.

       There wasn’t any furniture yet so the manor looked huge. He could swear that it was bigger on the inside than out. The skylight lit the main hall perfectly and the way it fell, highlighting the corners of the other rooms added warmth to it. The prime feature would have been the grand arched staircase right at the end and the dust covered fireplace. “So, you gonna tell me what we’re doing here?”

       “Well,” Tony began, walking towards him. “I think this would be a great place to live; so, what do you think about moving in?” Tony wrapped his arms around his waist and he could feel him smile against his back. “It’d be ours and ours alone.”

       “What about the tower then? We can’t just leave everyone,” he questioned, not really knowing how to react to the news. A part of him, the newlywed, wanted to scream ‘yes’ and start packing but the other part of him, the leader of the Avengers, had doubts, worrying about team morale and the strain it would cause on the effectiveness of the group when heading out for missions.

       Tony released him and took a step back and he could tell that his husband was a little upset, but he managed to casually reply, “They’ll be fine without us. They are all superheroes after all; if you’ve noticed. We’ll still be receiving status reports and whatever else necessary, only now, we get to do it in the comfort of our own home.”

        _Home._ He liked the sound of that; full of love and family. Something he and Tony could share together. He could almost smell the roaring fire and maybe even hear the pitter-patter of small feet against the floorboards; not that he was going to scare Tony with that fantasy anytime soon. He was falling in love with the place already. He had to admit that it was a dream of his to live in a house like this one. For once, he could do something for himself instead and not worry about anyone else.

       “We could use some privacy,” he said, teasingly and softly into Tony’s ear. “I guess living here wouldn’t be too bad.” He started leaving a trail of kisses along Tony’s neck, and Tony had his eyes closed, leaning into every one of them. It was his way of thanking his husband for the wonderful surprise, knowing he understood. He was enjoying it already. They would have never been able to do this in the hall back at the tower as they were constantly watched by multiple prying eyes and shot with sarcastic comments.

       “Wanna see our bedroom?” Tony asked, drowsily.

       “Yes, please,” he replied, already being pulled up the stairs.

       “What d’ya think?” Tony asked, arms stretched wide. “Incredible? Amazing as always?”

       “Well...” he started as he straighten Tony’s bow-tie, “...I think you look dashing.”

       “Dashing? That what they say back in the day?”

       He huffed a laugh. “Only if they looked like you.”

       “Aww...you’re not too bad yourself.” Tony ran a hand down the matching suit he wore. Tony was beaming and Steve felt a rush in his cheeks.

       He gave Tony a quick kiss but it was deepened and he leaned in. Tony’s intoxicating kisses could make one lose all thought, but he wasn’t going to submit to its charm. Pushing him back gently, Steve broke the spell before they had to get dressed again. “We’re running late. You know the party doesn’t start without Tony Stark,” he smiled and headed for the door, pausing when Tony didn’t follow.

       “Rogers.”

       “Hmm?” Steve glanced back at him.

       “No. I mean, Tony Stark-Rogers.”

       “Really?” He was honestly very surprised. The last time the topic arose, Tony ranted on about vexatious document signing and Pepper breathing down their necks.

       “It’s got a nice ring to it. Tony Stark-Rogers.” Tony extended a hand horizontally through the space in front of him and grinned.

       The corners of his mouth replicated it as he teased, “Not Rogers-Stark?”

       “Now you’re pushing it, Cap!”

       He chortled. Nothing could describe how much he loved the man. So, he just smiled and slung an arm around Tony’s as they made their way to the hall where people awaited them.

       “Hell, I say just go for it, Clint!” Tony blurted out one evening while cleaning up after dinner with the team. “Give it time and everything will fall in line, you know that kinda thing. You won’t know unless you give it a go?”

      It had been a very long day; they had been getting ready since the wee hours of the morning. Janet and Pepper stopped by a little earlier than the rest to help out but when one was having a Thor, a Hulk and a Thing over for a meal, one had to prepare ridiculously massive amounts of food. So, he guessed he couldn’t blame him too much for totally ditching the plan.

       They discussed it the night before, like a couple of teenage fanboys, about how Clint and Natasha were meant to be together, although they themselves didn’t know or simply couldn’t bear to admit it. It was Tony’s idea, because Steve just thought they really shouldn’t be interfering with such affairs and that it was probably rude, but when Tony said, “I just want them to have what we do”, he caved.

      They planned to interrogate Clint first and knock some sense into him before attempting the same with Tasha. They had already wisely chosen a colourful string of  words and had a whole script memorised in their heads, consequently, this was definitely not what he had in mind, but Tony was tired and possibly running out of caffeine, therefore, he tried to be understanding while hoping that this might actually work.

       “I don’t get what you’re suggest...” Clint began but Tony cut him off mid-sentence by passing him a plate to dry.

       “You two were dancing around each other the whole night! Being polite; you kept flirting and she kept giggling at your jokes that clearly only she found funny. It’s cute and all but don’t you think we’ve all had enough?”

       “I still have no idea what you’re talking about, Tony,” Clint said but Steve could see the faint blush slowly filling the Hawk’s cheeks as he placed some wine glasses back on their racks. He bit his lower lip to stop himself from laughing and was glad that no one else was in the kitchen. There was a racquet coming from the living room though that he thought he ought to check out, but he was too engrossed in this chapter of life unfolding before him to be bothered by it.

       “Stop denying! We can all see it and you do to! You’re a goddamn spy, so don’t you dare tell me you don’t! This isn’t the world’s most difficult code to crack. If you really want me to spell it out I will! And then I’d need a word with Fury ‘cause he’d need to recruit new agents. The ones he has already don’t seem to know what’s right in front of them!”

       Clint shut the overhead cabinet door and looked at Tony with his ocean-blue eyes, giving him one of those expressionless and unreadable ‘resting faces’ he had before tossing the kitchen towel on the counter, and sighed, breaking his well composed posture. “Yea you’re right. I run into unimaginable things every day, but when it comes down to this...heh...I’m a coward,” he admitted, wiping a hand across his face. “I don’t know what to do. I mean, after Budapest, everything went downhill...I guess I just...”

       “She loves you, man, that I can guarantee,” Tony gave him a light thump on the back. “Someone has to make the first move before its too late, trust me, I speak from experience,” he encouraged as he turned to Steve, giving him a small smile.

       Before they knew it, the cheers outside swelled to a roar, accompanied by thunderous clapping, as Clint ran up to Natasha, caressing her, and kissing her senseless in the middle of the hall. She was taken aback at first but eventually deepened the overdue affection. They only stopped when somebody yelled, “Get a room!” laughing and slightly embarrassed but the look they then shared was invaluable.

       Back in the kitchen, he and Tony watched in silence with enormous grins plastered on their faces. “I think we succeeded,” said Tony as he draped an arm around Steve’s waist, pulling him closer.

       “No, _you_ did,” he said proudly, laying a kiss on the side of the shorter man’s head and silently wishing the pair all the best.          

      “I’m not my father,” mumbled Tony as he minimised the morning news holograph.

       “What?” he asked behind the sports section, scooping another spoon full of cereal into his mouth. When Tony stayed silent, he folded the newspaper away. “Tony?”

       Tony played with the scraps of eggs left on his plate before prying his eyes off them to face him. “I’m not my father,” he repeated.

       “I know that. Why’re-?”

       “I’m better than him. That’s what you always tell me,” he said, cutting Steve short and furrowing his brows. “I think I can do it.”

       His mind raced at all the possibilities Tony were proposing.

       Tony reached across the island, dark-hazel eyes not leaving the deep-blues of Steve’s as he took his hand. “I want to be the father mine never was. We’ll be great parents,” Tony explained in a breath and waited for him to express signs of acknowledgement.

       Ignoring the goofy grin spreading across his face, he stood up and pulled Tony off his stool, wrapping his arms around him. “Yes, we will.”

       “What's his story?” he asked the social worker as they were walking along the halls of the nursery. They were currently paused at a cot that was separated from the rest. The infant had an oxygen mask on and looked a lot smaller than he should be.

       “This is Peter. He was rescued from a car crash that killed both his parents,” she replied. “The poor child is still suffering from the aftermath but the doctors say he will fully recover.”

       Tony took a step forward and placed a hand on the edge of the wooden crib. “Does he have any other family?” he asked.

       “Unfortunately no and no foster home would take him,” the social worker answered, sighing. “He needs people in his life who would love him and take care of him; now more than ever. The doctors say it would help with the healing process.”

       Tony took another look at the kid before turning to him, saying nothing other than the words, “He’s the one.”

       “What about this one?” he asked as he leaned against the door-frame and pointed inside.

       “You do know that’s the storage room. Where we put your hardware and...junk?”

       “We are storing something anyway, right?”

       He glowered at the other man suspiciously.

       “Just joking, Cap! Look, it’s close. If you’re really quiet, you’d hear his sleepy little noises.” He beamed a smile making him want to smile too. “I promise it’d be perfect!”

       “Okay...” Finding it difficult to keep the tone of seriousness in his voice, he cleared his throat and straightened himself, “...what about your stuff?”

       “I’ll leave _that_ to you. Heading down to the lab. Gotta start on those schematics.” He gave him a peck on the cheek and flashed an even bigger grin.

       “Hey-!”

       “Love ya too!” he added before disappearing down the stairs.

       “Again with the red and gold?” he asked in disbelieve. “Everything you own are in those shades.”

       “Exactly! We might as well do the same here.”

       “But-"

       “Zaffre then? I wouldn’t shine off the walls and scare the little guy,” said the bearded man as he unconsciously rubbed his chest. “We could stick on that border thingy the hardware store was advertising. Oh! And I have this great idea, of course, ‘bout the windows. Bruce and I have been manipulating glass to-”

       “Zaf...what?” he interrupted before having to receive an earful of uninterpretable scientific rambling. “Okay, anything you want,” he said in defeat. “Just as long as you clean up after yourself this time.” Wrapping his arms around the other’s waist, he rested his chin on the dip of his shoulder.

       “ _Make me_.” He turned around and grinned onto his lips after giving him a chaste kiss.

       It was past midnight when he woke, but wasn’t surprised to see the space beside him still empty. He got up and gradually paced to the nursery. There was something expected before him. So as silent as he could be, he tarried by the doorway and watched as a man rocked in a chair, cradling an infant.

       The baby had trouble sleeping when they brought him home and every night since then, he would hold him in his arms. Warmth from his body and the hum of the reactor were the only things that soothed the child.

       The boy was eventually able to sleep through the night on his own, but the man had insisted he didn’t. Realising it was an excuse to have the kid fall asleep on his chest, he never argued and never would. He just watched and treasured and smiled, and went back to bed.

       “You’re going to get yourself killed!” he bawled his torment.

       “I’ve already calculated that possibility. My plan is sound, Steve. Give me some credit!” Tony yelled back, drying his hair with a towel. “It’ll work. It’ll be over soon.”

       “And it’ll end with you lying unconscious in a pool of your own blood.”

       “It was just that one time! You saved me, I’m fine, and so is America.”

       He got off the bed and grabbed Tony’s arm as he walked past. “What if I can’t? What if your crazed suicidal mission backfires?” he asked acrimoniously. “Someone _needs_ you now, and I don’t mean me.”

       Not wanting an answer, he stormed to the gym.

      “Steve!” Tony yelled for him. “Hurry up! It’s starting!”

      He was busy writing up a report from the day’s mission Fury wanted in the morning. Although he had gotten pretty good at typing, he voluntarily wanted to do it by hand. There was something refined about having it in script, but it was getting late and wished he had chosen otherwise. “You guys go ahead!” he hollered in reply. “I’ll join you when I’m done.”

       It was a Wednesday and ‘Wednesdays were movie nights’ as Tony so often declared. He really didn’t see the point in re-watching cartoons over and over again, even if Peter enjoyed them. The kid just never got bored of the same moving pictures. He preferred if Peter spent his time learning to read than staring at a screen all day.

       His son gurgled excitedly behind him and he looked up from the desk in time to see Peter at the animated lions. Peter was enthusiastically bouncing on Tony’s lap as his Daddy laughed along, telling him tales of Africa. He smiled amusingly when Peter started giggling. It wasn’t as if their year old son understood, but there he was, delighted at the sound of his father’s voice.

       It was the only night Tony had off and Steve has never seen him more content. No cell phones, emails or Pepper, even JARVIS couldn’t prompt him with urgent matters. Upon his life would the man admit it, but Steve knew moments like these meant a lot. Tony didn’t grow up in a healthy nor functional family. He just wanted Peter to have what he had been missing.

       Steve put down his pen and ended up slouching down on the couch beside them. Tony gave him a kiss while scooting Peter across so he could reach for the bowl of popcorn. Balancing Peter on his knee, he began pointing at the television too.

       Fury could wait.

       “What’re you up to now? I just small talked a training potty!” he yelled over the blasting rock music and heavy machinery.

       “You’ve met ‘Putty’ then?” He placed the power-saw on the bench beside him and snapped his fingers, turning the volume down. “That’s how he pronounces it by the way. Wasn’t it neat? I’m doing the bed next. This...” he said, patting some sort of metal rod, “...is so he doesn’t fall off it.”

       “Bars? Isn’t the whole point of switching him to a regular bed is so he can _learn_ to not fall off?” he asked with a sigh.

       “It’s a safety-rail! Every kid has one. Now he never has to _learn_ ‘cause he’d never fall.”

       “That’s-”

       “ _Genius_ , I know! We have to meet the person who came up with this. Pep suggested SI start a new line of tech, and baby products’ an excellent investment. With my additional configurations, think of all the possibilities! Self-sterilising bottles with built-in temperature sensors, holographic super-nannies, automatic changing tables...”

       “You should be used to changing diapers by now,” he teased as the futurist’s true agenda behind his endless flow of ideas laid bare.

       “ _Nooooo_...I won’t have to be! Keep up! See, the thing about techno-” The baby monitor flickered on and wailing echoed through the laboratory. “He _knows_ doesn’t he? My kid’s freakin’ Einstein!”

       “Language! And stop stalling, it’s your turn, _genius_ ,” he grinned, ushering the other up the stairs.

       “Look, Papa! Look!” Peter shouted gleefully as he bounded over with a rolled up sheet of paper at hand. He shoved it onto Steve’s chest and started straightening it out. “Daddy teach me blu-pin!”

       “What’s this?” He smiled at Peter’s vocabulary and placed the S.H.I.E.L.D. file away, picking up the A4 covered in coloured squiggles instead. “It’s very nice, Peter.”

       “Daddy bill bot! I help!” Peter squealed and pointed at a purple square before yanking it off Steve. “For you, Papa,” he said, crushing it into Steve’s hands. He then leaped off the couch and went in the direction he came, leaving his father very puzzled.

       Tony’s guffaw echoed behind as he trailed after their son.

       “What will you do when I’m gone?” Tony asked one evening as they watched Peter on the swings. The playground was filled with soccer-moms and screaming children; it was nice to be a part of the norm in society once in a while.

       “What do you mean?” he turned to face Tony and placed a hand on his knee. He was concerned and the question definitely raised a lot of red flags.

       “I’m getting older everyday and there you are, same as always,” Tony said, monotonously, still focused on their son, expressionless.

       He knew the matter would rise one day or another, but he had hoped he could have avoided it at least a little while longer. He hadn’t thought of anything to counter it yet. He never wanted to think about it. As far as he knew, he was going to be with Tony forever, and they would watch Peter grow and rock their grandchildren on their front porch. “Tony, I...”

       “It’s alright, Steve. I know.” Tony smiled at him and the crinkle in the corners of his eyes made him want to just hold his husband tight and not let go. “Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself, and Pete; that you’ll both live long, happy lives.” 

       In that instant, Peter waved at them from the top of the slide and he made a vow to himself that he would cherish whatever time left the universe allowed them to have together. “I promise.”

       The skies were gloomy, overflowing with dark clouds, allowing little light to pass through them. Rubble enclosed the roads, every side walk and back lane. Buildings were in ruins; windows smashed inwards and out, shards of glass covered the floors as walls crumbled to the ground.

       Car alarms went off. People were screaming for their loved ones with paramedics rushing to their aid. Children cried in the arms of strangers as they were carried to safety. Some scrambled to their feet while others lent a helping hand. Policemen barked orders and guided as many as they could to areas of shelter.

       A mother wrapped in blankets mourned the loss of her husband and child. Rebellious teenagers took the opportunity, looting in various shops. The park was covered in uprooted trees and impact craters. Once clean and clear, the pond was mucky, hinting no signs of life.

       The loud crash ahead hindered his movements. His line of sight was permeated with smoke. A jet of light emerged from the soot, disappearing into the sky, leaving a trail of bright red and yellow behind it. Another display similar to the first followed closely behind and was catching up.

       The chase continued.The second managed to seize the first and held on tight. They were flying as one, producing a solitary trail of light. A thunderous crack and glaring flash of green swarmed across the firmament. Another stream of repulsors, and there was an ear-piercing explosion.


End file.
